Chapter Fifteen: Realization
The following morning Cho and Harry went into Muggle London and Harry found himself being lead into a very exotic Asian market. Cho chatted on excitedly, explaining the many strange and unique spices and foods she was buying. Some of them looked a bit dubious to Harry, such as the dried tuna flakes Cho was planning on making soup-what she called "miso"-with. She loaded up on seafood, as well-something Harry had never particularly liked too much.
"Just give it a whirl," she said airily, putting a bag of chopped up squid in her shopping basket. "I'm telling you, it's delicious."
Harry only nodded and tried not to look too disgusted when she considered buying some jellyfish. She decided against it though ("That's probably a bit TOO exotic for you."). And eating squid isn't, thought Harry sarcastically, as he loaded a pile of something called kim chee into his own basket. If Ginny were cooking him a meal, she'd make his favorite stuff- shepherd's pie, roast chicken, potatoes...
Stop thinking about Ginny! he thought angrily. Cho flashed him a beautiful smile and for a moment, Harry did not think about Ginny.
They left the market with their purchases and returned to Harry's flat off Diagon Alley. Cho told him she'd need plenty of time to start on dinner and that he should "go do something with himself" while she busied herself in the kitchen. Harry agreed and went up to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the desire to be alone.
He sat down at his desk, thinking that perhaps now would be a good time to finally tackle all the work he'd left piling up. But then his eyes fell on the photograph of himself and Ginny. He picked it up and traced his finger along her red hair.
In four hours the World Cup would commence. Harry wished he could watch it on television, but there were no televisions in the wizarding world. He smiled at the photograph, and felt the ache return to his chest. He could only hope that Ginny flew well; even if Britain didn't win, he hoped she flew well. She deserved to be on the national team. She was the best player he'd ever seen. Maybe if she flew well, she'd finally be happy, finally lose that sad look in her eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bon appetit," said Cho, in a delighted sort of voice. Harry smiled at her, a bit stiffly, and sat down, his eyes roaming the very crowded dining table. There were all sorts of strange dishes. The Asian starch of choice was quite clearly rice, which Harry liked well enough, except that the rice seemed to be mixed up with all sorts of different kinds of seafood and vegetables. There were dumplings as well, and all sorts of sauces. It didn't look half as bad as he thought it might.
"Dig in," said Cho, clearly very pleased with herself. Harry smiled at her enthusiasm and dished himself up some of the food. He took some of the rice, a bit of a noodle dish, and a few of the dumplings, then spooned himself a few of the sauces. One was some sort of mustard and the other was a kind of slightly grainy, green mashed sort of paste.
Harry smiled again at Cho, who had begun to eat her food, except that she wasn't using a knife and a fork; she used two long sticks and took dainty, graceful bites.
"What are those?" Harry asked, fascinated and a little impressed that she was able to eat like that without dropping food all over the place.
"Chopsticks, silly," said Cho. "Want to try a pair?"
"No thanks," said Harry. "I'll end up wearing more food than eating it."
Cho laughed, very raucously. Harry didn't think the joke was all that funny, but he smiled all the same.
He took a tentative bite of the rice dish. It was pretty good, actually. A bit salty, perhaps, but the seafood hadn't been overcooked and the vegetables were relatively crisp. Encouraged, he took another bite, and decided that he liked this Asian stuff. He picked up one of the dumplings. Feeling inspired, he dipped it into the mustard and then spread a healthy smear of the green paste over it and popped it into his mouth.
"Oh, no, Harry, don't do that!" Cho cried.
Harry immediately saw why. The sauces were beyond spicy-it was like eating fire. He began to cough and sputter and his eyes began to stream, his forehead to sweat, and his nose to run.
"Oh, dear," said Cho, standing up and fetching some tissues.
"What-" Harry choked, taking a sip of water, then downing his whole glass in one. His mouth was on fire. He was sure his tongue had shriveled up completely. "What WAS that?"
"Wasabi and hot mustard," said Cho sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."
"It's okay," Harry croaked, standing up and filling his water glass again from the tap and downing that as well. "I think I'll stick with the rice stuff."
Unconsciously Harry looked at his watch. Five o'clock. The match was starting in two hours, and his mind wandered to Ginny. What had she done today to prepare? Had she rested, or perhaps she got up early this morning and had another practice session? Harry suspected the latter, even if the team itself hadn't done so. Ginny was tenacious about flying; she wouldn't want to sit around all day doing nothing. She'd want to be up there, flying one last time before the match.
"Harry, you okay?" Cho asked. Harry looked at her and sat down quickly.
"Fine," said Harry.
"The match starts in a few hours," said Cho, picking at her food. "I wish we could have gone."
"Me, too," said Harry sadly.
"I wanted to bring my broom but my stupid boss told me I had to travel like a Muggle," said Cho. "So my broom's back in Cairo. Or else I would have said we could go to that park, just down the road, and have a fly."
"Yeah," said Harry, taking a mouthful of rice.
"You still have your old Firebolt?" Cho asked.
"Yup," said Harry. "Haven't flown in ages, though. First year Auror training is pretty much both feet on the ground."
"Do you ever regret, you know, not pursuing Quidditch professionally?"
"Sometimes," said Harry. "But I like doing Auror stuff, too. I mean, especially because of my parents, Sirius, you know. I feel like...I'm giving back somehow."
"Me, too," said Cho. "I mean, with being a Curse Breaker. I thought about Quidditch as a career myself, you know. But, I dunno, I thought I'd rather do something worthwhile with myself."
"Quidditch is worthwhile," said Harry, feeling suddenly defensive.
"For entertainment, sure," said Cho, sipping her wine.
Harry said nothing but looked down at his food, feeling his appetite disappear. He was annoyed. Why was Cho disparaging Quidditch as a career? Lots of worthy wizards and witches played the game. It was bloody hard work, the pay wasn't great, and just because it wasn't saving the world, well, it was doing some level of good, bringing wizarding communities together from around the world and creating some level of harmony. Providing a welcome focus away from the daily drudgeries of life.
"Of course," Cho went on, dabbing her lips daintily with her napkin, "I do have to give a little credit to the Weasley girl. I mean, professional Quidditch is still a big boys' club. It's about time a woman made some inroads there. And I've been reading about her, too. I had no idea she could pull off a Wronski Feint. Still, I wonder how her family reacted to her being a Quidditch player. Probably the same way they reacted to those twins opening up a joke shop. I mean, yeah, the joke shop makes all sorts of money, but look at Bill Weasley, and Charlie, and Percy. Hell, look at Ron. He's an Auror, too-I have to admit I never thought that would happen. He never struck me as the sort who got really good marks. Then again, I suppose hooking up with Hermione Granger had its benefits."
Harry stared at her as she continued to chatter. Did she even realize she was insulting his best friends?
"How is Hermione, by the way?" Cho asked, smiling sweetly at Harry. "What does she do at the Ministry?"
"She's an Unspeakable," said Harry, "so I don't really know what she does."
"Oh," said Cho, not sounding remotely impressed. "I guess that's worthwhile. I mean, nobody knows, do they, so who's to say? I dunno. Unspeakable-that always struck me as the sort of title the Ministry throws out there to make the job sound more dangerous and worthwhile than it really is, you know?"
"My parents were Unspeakables," said Harry sharply.
"Oh," said Cho, having the grace to look embarrassed. "Right. Sorry. Well, I suppose...they must have done all sorts of scary undercover work, then." She flushed bright red.
"Anyway," she said lightly, forcing a laugh, "I hope Britain wins the match. Not for that Weasley girl's sake, mind, not after the way she-"
"Her name," said Harry furiously, standing up, "is Virginia Weasley."
Cho swallowed. "Sorry," she said again, but she didn't sound sorry at all. If anything she sounded affronted. "But I thought after what happened between you two yesterday...well, I AM on your side, Harry. I mean, she broke your heart. What a heartless bitch!"
"Don't you call her that!" Harry snapped. "What happened yesterday was not her fault, it was mine, okay? And...and Quidditch is a damn fine career for any witch or wizard to choose."
"I never said it wasn't!" Cho retorted hotly, standing up herself.
"Yeah, you did," Harry shot back. "Before you went on to call my best mate stupid and make it sound like his relationship with my other best mate was some sort of business arrangement. For your information those two love each other and respect each other and I wish to hell I had even a tenth of the relationship they had. Not that you would understand anything about love!"
"Oh, like you're an expert!" Cho snapped. "I'm not the one who got dumped yesterday, remember? You have a history of that, don't you, Harry? Getting dumped by redheads?"
"Oh, very funny," said Harry, stung. "I seem to recall you dumping me more than once! You dumped me because...because I was inexperienced, for god's sake! What kind of person does that?"
"Oh, please," said Cho, rolling her eyes. "Look at you, Mr. High and Mighty Morality. The day after your little girlfriend dumps you you're sticking your tongue in my mouth! Don't talk to me about love and all that rot, Harry! You're no better than anyone else. No, you're worse, because you're a hypocrite and a coward!"
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.
"I came to see you because I thought we had a chance," Cho said furiously. "But now I see I was way off base. Fine. I can live with that. But for you to stand there and lecture ME and tell me I don't know from love is a crock of shit! If you love that Weasley girl so much what the hell are you doing here with me, then?"
"I-I told you!" Harry protested, suddenly feeling very defensive. "I didn't want to-"
"-leave me alone?" Cho interrupted. "Bullshit! You thought maybe you'd cry on my shoulder and I'd take you to bed or something, didn't you?"
"Well, I don't know WHERE I got that impression!" Harry bellowed. "That you might want to try and get me into bed. You've been throwing yourself at me for a week! Pardon me for being a bloke and noticing!"
"Yeah, well, I wanted you, okay?" said Cho furiously. "Pardon me for going after what I want! At least I don't sit on my hands like SOME people! At least I make choices instead of waffling and whining and acting like some stupid, wishy-washy git!"
"What are you saying?" Harry demanded.
"I'm saying make a decision!" Cho snapped. "I came to see you because I wanted you, because I like you. I was under the clearly mistaken impression that you liked me."
"I do-" said Harry, suddenly feeling a bit weak from their argument.
"No, you don't," said Cho, her voice softer now, a bit sad, as the whole tenor of their conversation changed. "You like me well enough and you might be attracted to me but I can see it in your eyes, Harry. You're trying to convince yourself of things, some of which are there and some of which aren't."
Harry stared at her, totally thrown off and uncertain about what to say.
"Harry," said Cho. "I'm sorry for what I said about your friends. I mean it. But I'm not sorry for going after you, for pursuing you. Okay, sometimes I'm selfish, I admit. But if there's one thing I learned after Cedric died, it's that I'm not going to be afraid of life. I'm not going to be afraid to take chances. Maybe that makes me a bit heartless sometimes, but in fifty years when I look back on my life I'll be able to say I lived it."
"I don't understand," said Harry, even though part of him did.
"I'm standing here," said Cho, "and I want you. If you don't want me, I can live with that. I can go back to Egypt and accept it, because I gave you and me a chance. But there's another girl playing Quidditch in an hour who's mad about you and wants you even more. Are you going to stand here in this kitchen and do nothing?"
Harry blinked. "How...how do you know...you can't know that Ginny..."
"Harry," said Cho, shaking her head. "Haven't you seen how she looks at you? The way you look at her? You sit here and accuse me of not knowing what love is like and you don't even recognize when you're in love yourself."
Harry swallowed hard. Cho looked very sad just then, and he felt wretched. Once again they had descended into another horrible brawl, only this time it was worse, because however angry he might be at Cho for her mean comments about his friends, he knew she had a point. He had been a coward.
And he loved Ginny.
"I'm sorry, Cho," he said, meaning it. "I'm sorry about you and me...about everything." She nodded, tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, too," she said. "I didn't mean what I said about your friends. I've always been a bit jealous of them, you know. The way they were able to get close to you when I wasn't."
"Yeah," said Harry awkwardly. He didn't know what else to say. He was sad that things were through with him and Cho, but also very relieved.
"Harry," said Cho. "What the hell are you doing standing there? Didn't I just scream at you to get going? You're going to miss that bloody match!"
"Oh, shit!" said Harry, checking his watch. "Right. But, uh, my ticket-I don't have it!"
"So sneak in!" said Cho, rolling her eyes.
"What about dinner-"
"I'll clean up, just go!"
"But what about-"
"Harry, GET GOING!"
"Right," he said, feeling a huge weight lifting from his chest, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He was going to that bloody Quidditch match and he was going to find Ginny and swear up and down that he loved her, no matter what. "My wand," he said, grabbing it from the side table in the kitchen. "I need my Firebolt!"
"You don't have time to fly there!" said Cho. "The match is in Scotland! You'll have to Apparate there!"
"Right," he said. "But...oh, shit. I've never Apparated that far!"
"Well, no time like the present, is there?" said Cho.
"God," Harry said. "Okay, uh, I just need a jacket." He ran to the hall closet and yanked out his black leather coat. "Uh, right. So, I guess I'll just go."
"'Bye, Harry," said Cho, smiling at him, her eyes sad.
Harry lifted his wand, but then his eyes met Cho's and he crossed the room and hugged her tightly.
"Thanks," he whispered into her hair. He stepped back. Her eyes were full of tears again, but she was smiling at him.
"So," said Harry. "Listen. If I splinch myself, call St. Mungo's, okay?"
She laughed and nodded. He closed his eyes, waved his wand, and heard a loud CRACK!
The following morning Cho and Harry went into Muggle London and Harry found himself being lead into a very exotic Asian market. Cho chatted on excitedly, explaining the many strange and unique spices and foods she was buying. Some of them looked a bit dubious to Harry, such as the dried tuna flakes Cho was planning on making soup-what she called "miso"-with. She loaded up on seafood, as well-something Harry had never particularly liked too much.
"Just give it a whirl," she said airily, putting a bag of chopped up squid in her shopping basket. "I'm telling you, it's delicious."
Harry only nodded and tried not to look too disgusted when she considered buying some jellyfish. She decided against it though ("That's probably a bit TOO exotic for you."). And eating squid isn't, thought Harry sarcastically, as he loaded a pile of something called kim chee into his own basket. If Ginny were cooking him a meal, she'd make his favorite stuff- shepherd's pie, roast chicken, potatoes...
Stop thinking about Ginny! he thought angrily. Cho flashed him a beautiful smile and for a moment, Harry did not think about Ginny.
They left the market with their purchases and returned to Harry's flat off Diagon Alley. Cho told him she'd need plenty of time to start on dinner and that he should "go do something with himself" while she busied herself in the kitchen. Harry agreed and went up to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the desire to be alone.
He sat down at his desk, thinking that perhaps now would be a good time to finally tackle all the work he'd left piling up. But then his eyes fell on the photograph of himself and Ginny. He picked it up and traced his finger along her red hair.
In four hours the World Cup would commence. Harry wished he could watch it on television, but there were no televisions in the wizarding world. He smiled at the photograph, and felt the ache return to his chest. He could only hope that Ginny flew well; even if Britain didn't win, he hoped she flew well. She deserved to be on the national team. She was the best player he'd ever seen. Maybe if she flew well, she'd finally be happy, finally lose that sad look in her eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bon appetit," said Cho, in a delighted sort of voice. Harry smiled at her, a bit stiffly, and sat down, his eyes roaming the very crowded dining table. There were all sorts of strange dishes. The Asian starch of choice was quite clearly rice, which Harry liked well enough, except that the rice seemed to be mixed up with all sorts of different kinds of seafood and vegetables. There were dumplings as well, and all sorts of sauces. It didn't look half as bad as he thought it might.
"Dig in," said Cho, clearly very pleased with herself. Harry smiled at her enthusiasm and dished himself up some of the food. He took some of the rice, a bit of a noodle dish, and a few of the dumplings, then spooned himself a few of the sauces. One was some sort of mustard and the other was a kind of slightly grainy, green mashed sort of paste.
Harry smiled again at Cho, who had begun to eat her food, except that she wasn't using a knife and a fork; she used two long sticks and took dainty, graceful bites.
"What are those?" Harry asked, fascinated and a little impressed that she was able to eat like that without dropping food all over the place.
"Chopsticks, silly," said Cho. "Want to try a pair?"
"No thanks," said Harry. "I'll end up wearing more food than eating it."
Cho laughed, very raucously. Harry didn't think the joke was all that funny, but he smiled all the same.
He took a tentative bite of the rice dish. It was pretty good, actually. A bit salty, perhaps, but the seafood hadn't been overcooked and the vegetables were relatively crisp. Encouraged, he took another bite, and decided that he liked this Asian stuff. He picked up one of the dumplings. Feeling inspired, he dipped it into the mustard and then spread a healthy smear of the green paste over it and popped it into his mouth.
"Oh, no, Harry, don't do that!" Cho cried.
Harry immediately saw why. The sauces were beyond spicy-it was like eating fire. He began to cough and sputter and his eyes began to stream, his forehead to sweat, and his nose to run.
"Oh, dear," said Cho, standing up and fetching some tissues.
"What-" Harry choked, taking a sip of water, then downing his whole glass in one. His mouth was on fire. He was sure his tongue had shriveled up completely. "What WAS that?"
"Wasabi and hot mustard," said Cho sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."
"It's okay," Harry croaked, standing up and filling his water glass again from the tap and downing that as well. "I think I'll stick with the rice stuff."
Unconsciously Harry looked at his watch. Five o'clock. The match was starting in two hours, and his mind wandered to Ginny. What had she done today to prepare? Had she rested, or perhaps she got up early this morning and had another practice session? Harry suspected the latter, even if the team itself hadn't done so. Ginny was tenacious about flying; she wouldn't want to sit around all day doing nothing. She'd want to be up there, flying one last time before the match.
"Harry, you okay?" Cho asked. Harry looked at her and sat down quickly.
"Fine," said Harry.
"The match starts in a few hours," said Cho, picking at her food. "I wish we could have gone."
"Me, too," said Harry sadly.
"I wanted to bring my broom but my stupid boss told me I had to travel like a Muggle," said Cho. "So my broom's back in Cairo. Or else I would have said we could go to that park, just down the road, and have a fly."
"Yeah," said Harry, taking a mouthful of rice.
"You still have your old Firebolt?" Cho asked.
"Yup," said Harry. "Haven't flown in ages, though. First year Auror training is pretty much both feet on the ground."
"Do you ever regret, you know, not pursuing Quidditch professionally?"
"Sometimes," said Harry. "But I like doing Auror stuff, too. I mean, especially because of my parents, Sirius, you know. I feel like...I'm giving back somehow."
"Me, too," said Cho. "I mean, with being a Curse Breaker. I thought about Quidditch as a career myself, you know. But, I dunno, I thought I'd rather do something worthwhile with myself."
"Quidditch is worthwhile," said Harry, feeling suddenly defensive.
"For entertainment, sure," said Cho, sipping her wine.
Harry said nothing but looked down at his food, feeling his appetite disappear. He was annoyed. Why was Cho disparaging Quidditch as a career? Lots of worthy wizards and witches played the game. It was bloody hard work, the pay wasn't great, and just because it wasn't saving the world, well, it was doing some level of good, bringing wizarding communities together from around the world and creating some level of harmony. Providing a welcome focus away from the daily drudgeries of life.
"Of course," Cho went on, dabbing her lips daintily with her napkin, "I do have to give a little credit to the Weasley girl. I mean, professional Quidditch is still a big boys' club. It's about time a woman made some inroads there. And I've been reading about her, too. I had no idea she could pull off a Wronski Feint. Still, I wonder how her family reacted to her being a Quidditch player. Probably the same way they reacted to those twins opening up a joke shop. I mean, yeah, the joke shop makes all sorts of money, but look at Bill Weasley, and Charlie, and Percy. Hell, look at Ron. He's an Auror, too-I have to admit I never thought that would happen. He never struck me as the sort who got really good marks. Then again, I suppose hooking up with Hermione Granger had its benefits."
Harry stared at her as she continued to chatter. Did she even realize she was insulting his best friends?
"How is Hermione, by the way?" Cho asked, smiling sweetly at Harry. "What does she do at the Ministry?"
"She's an Unspeakable," said Harry, "so I don't really know what she does."
"Oh," said Cho, not sounding remotely impressed. "I guess that's worthwhile. I mean, nobody knows, do they, so who's to say? I dunno. Unspeakable-that always struck me as the sort of title the Ministry throws out there to make the job sound more dangerous and worthwhile than it really is, you know?"
"My parents were Unspeakables," said Harry sharply.
"Oh," said Cho, having the grace to look embarrassed. "Right. Sorry. Well, I suppose...they must have done all sorts of scary undercover work, then." She flushed bright red.
"Anyway," she said lightly, forcing a laugh, "I hope Britain wins the match. Not for that Weasley girl's sake, mind, not after the way she-"
"Her name," said Harry furiously, standing up, "is Virginia Weasley."
Cho swallowed. "Sorry," she said again, but she didn't sound sorry at all. If anything she sounded affronted. "But I thought after what happened between you two yesterday...well, I AM on your side, Harry. I mean, she broke your heart. What a heartless bitch!"
"Don't you call her that!" Harry snapped. "What happened yesterday was not her fault, it was mine, okay? And...and Quidditch is a damn fine career for any witch or wizard to choose."
"I never said it wasn't!" Cho retorted hotly, standing up herself.
"Yeah, you did," Harry shot back. "Before you went on to call my best mate stupid and make it sound like his relationship with my other best mate was some sort of business arrangement. For your information those two love each other and respect each other and I wish to hell I had even a tenth of the relationship they had. Not that you would understand anything about love!"
"Oh, like you're an expert!" Cho snapped. "I'm not the one who got dumped yesterday, remember? You have a history of that, don't you, Harry? Getting dumped by redheads?"
"Oh, very funny," said Harry, stung. "I seem to recall you dumping me more than once! You dumped me because...because I was inexperienced, for god's sake! What kind of person does that?"
"Oh, please," said Cho, rolling her eyes. "Look at you, Mr. High and Mighty Morality. The day after your little girlfriend dumps you you're sticking your tongue in my mouth! Don't talk to me about love and all that rot, Harry! You're no better than anyone else. No, you're worse, because you're a hypocrite and a coward!"
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.
"I came to see you because I thought we had a chance," Cho said furiously. "But now I see I was way off base. Fine. I can live with that. But for you to stand there and lecture ME and tell me I don't know from love is a crock of shit! If you love that Weasley girl so much what the hell are you doing here with me, then?"
"I-I told you!" Harry protested, suddenly feeling very defensive. "I didn't want to-"
"-leave me alone?" Cho interrupted. "Bullshit! You thought maybe you'd cry on my shoulder and I'd take you to bed or something, didn't you?"
"Well, I don't know WHERE I got that impression!" Harry bellowed. "That you might want to try and get me into bed. You've been throwing yourself at me for a week! Pardon me for being a bloke and noticing!"
"Yeah, well, I wanted you, okay?" said Cho furiously. "Pardon me for going after what I want! At least I don't sit on my hands like SOME people! At least I make choices instead of waffling and whining and acting like some stupid, wishy-washy git!"
"What are you saying?" Harry demanded.
"I'm saying make a decision!" Cho snapped. "I came to see you because I wanted you, because I like you. I was under the clearly mistaken impression that you liked me."
"I do-" said Harry, suddenly feeling a bit weak from their argument.
"No, you don't," said Cho, her voice softer now, a bit sad, as the whole tenor of their conversation changed. "You like me well enough and you might be attracted to me but I can see it in your eyes, Harry. You're trying to convince yourself of things, some of which are there and some of which aren't."
Harry stared at her, totally thrown off and uncertain about what to say.
"Harry," said Cho. "I'm sorry for what I said about your friends. I mean it. But I'm not sorry for going after you, for pursuing you. Okay, sometimes I'm selfish, I admit. But if there's one thing I learned after Cedric died, it's that I'm not going to be afraid of life. I'm not going to be afraid to take chances. Maybe that makes me a bit heartless sometimes, but in fifty years when I look back on my life I'll be able to say I lived it."
"I don't understand," said Harry, even though part of him did.
"I'm standing here," said Cho, "and I want you. If you don't want me, I can live with that. I can go back to Egypt and accept it, because I gave you and me a chance. But there's another girl playing Quidditch in an hour who's mad about you and wants you even more. Are you going to stand here in this kitchen and do nothing?"
Harry blinked. "How...how do you know...you can't know that Ginny..."
"Harry," said Cho, shaking her head. "Haven't you seen how she looks at you? The way you look at her? You sit here and accuse me of not knowing what love is like and you don't even recognize when you're in love yourself."
Harry swallowed hard. Cho looked very sad just then, and he felt wretched. Once again they had descended into another horrible brawl, only this time it was worse, because however angry he might be at Cho for her mean comments about his friends, he knew she had a point. He had been a coward.
And he loved Ginny.
"I'm sorry, Cho," he said, meaning it. "I'm sorry about you and me...about everything." She nodded, tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, too," she said. "I didn't mean what I said about your friends. I've always been a bit jealous of them, you know. The way they were able to get close to you when I wasn't."
"Yeah," said Harry awkwardly. He didn't know what else to say. He was sad that things were through with him and Cho, but also very relieved.
"Harry," said Cho. "What the hell are you doing standing there? Didn't I just scream at you to get going? You're going to miss that bloody match!"
"Oh, shit!" said Harry, checking his watch. "Right. But, uh, my ticket-I don't have it!"
"So sneak in!" said Cho, rolling her eyes.
"What about dinner-"
"I'll clean up, just go!"
"But what about-"
"Harry, GET GOING!"
"Right," he said, feeling a huge weight lifting from his chest, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He was going to that bloody Quidditch match and he was going to find Ginny and swear up and down that he loved her, no matter what. "My wand," he said, grabbing it from the side table in the kitchen. "I need my Firebolt!"
"You don't have time to fly there!" said Cho. "The match is in Scotland! You'll have to Apparate there!"
"Right," he said. "But...oh, shit. I've never Apparated that far!"
"Well, no time like the present, is there?" said Cho.
"God," Harry said. "Okay, uh, I just need a jacket." He ran to the hall closet and yanked out his black leather coat. "Uh, right. So, I guess I'll just go."
"'Bye, Harry," said Cho, smiling at him, her eyes sad.
Harry lifted his wand, but then his eyes met Cho's and he crossed the room and hugged her tightly.
"Thanks," he whispered into her hair. He stepped back. Her eyes were full of tears again, but she was smiling at him.
"So," said Harry. "Listen. If I splinch myself, call St. Mungo's, okay?"
She laughed and nodded. He closed his eyes, waved his wand, and heard a loud CRACK!
